Chichi Ue
by Lex Munro
Summary: Dark Avengers fic. AU. In 1950s Japan, Logan tries to raise a young son who seems icy and distant.


written as a fill for Eva Roisin's prompt over at Gayreign (gayreign (dot) livejournal (dot) com):  
>Characters: Logan, child!Daken, other characters of your choosing (optional)<br>Scenario: Just ... write a different (i.e. better) version of Wolverine: What If? Logan actually takes a serious stab at raising Daken. I don't care what subjects you want to deal with as long as it 1) takes place in the 1950s and 60s, and 2) is plausible.

not a big to-do, obviously, just a little fluffy glimpse, but it's something.

**warnings:** domestic fluff of d00m. AU (obviously). language: g.

**pairing:** none/gen.

**timeline:** mid 1950s.

**disclaimer:** all characters are property of Marvel.

**notes:** 1) "chichi-ue" is one of the most formal ways to address one's father. it's pretty weird for a normal, working-class father to have his kid call him "chichi-ue." 2) i have no idea what characters the creators had in mind to spell Daken's given name, but it doesn't really matter, since this is AU. in my world, it's "great autumn." 3) the character for autumn is made out of the ones for "branching tree" and "fire." this has been your kanji-nerd lesson for the day. 4) Itsukaichi is a suburb of Toukyou that was starting to gain in prosperity in the '50s, when the railways were being overhauled. 5) i actually have no idea how early Japanese schools started to teach children English. but junior high is when they would've started teaching it. 6) "relying on someone" and "leaving something in someone's care" are weighty phrases in Japanese. the feeling doesn't really translate... 7) the gist here is that Logan uses fairly informal language, while Aki is using fairly formal language. using informal language often conveys a wish to be closer, while formal language is an expression of social distance. it's normal for a parent to speak informally to a child and have the child respond with a comparatively high level of respect, but Aki is going a little overboard. 8) "ittekimasu" and "itterasshai" are nearly always said when someone is leaving the house (on an errand, for work, whatever). some people attach a certain amount of superstition to the practice (like worrying that something bad may happen if you don't tell someone to "drive safe").

**Japanese mini-glossary**  
>Aki = "autumn"<br>Hiro = "broad, great" (a naming kanji)  
>obaa = "old lady(s)"<br>ohayou = "good morning" (informal)  
>ohayou gozaimasu = "good morning" (formal)<br>-san = general politeness honorific  
>chichi-ue = "father" (very formal)<br>tousan = "father" (informal)  
>ganbatte = "do your best" (informal)<br>itsumo ganbatteimasu = "i always do my best" (formal)  
>itteku = "i'm going now (and i'll come back)" (informal)<br>itterasshaimase = "please go (and come back)" (very formal)  
>genkan = the area next to the front door where shoes are taken on and off<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chichi-Ue<strong>

Logan considers himself terrible with children. Itsu had desperately wanted a child, and she had assured him he would be a wonderful father…but now Itsu isn't here, and he hardly knows what to do with **himself**, let alone a child. He named the boy Akihiro, because it's a lucky name and autumn started early that year—and anyway, it just felt right.

He loves to write the characters. _Aki_. The branching tree aflame. The forests around Bando Saburo looked like they were burning in the autumn, brilliant copper and scarlet and gold. _Hiro_. Broad, great. Autumn seemed to go on forever that year.

Logan thinks often and fondly of that village, and wishes they could go back. But after the sparring accident and then Itsu's awful death, he knew he'd be branded a curse at best (more likely a demon), so he took the baby and left. Anyway, the weather's nicer around Toukyou. There are new, smaller cities cropping up all along its western edge; little suburbs that will undoubtedly swell as the economy continues to recover. Itsukaichi is a good place for them—nestled in the foothills, easy to escape if they need to, close enough to Toukyou that he can buy modern parenting amenities like bottles and pacifiers and teething toys.

Being a grieving widower garnered him the doting pity of all the old ladies in the neighborhood. Thank god for all the little _obaa_, because they were the ones who taught him how to change a diaper, how to mix baby formula, how to hold a baby when he fussed and cried and wouldn't stop. They were the ones to take turns cooing and exclaiming and babysitting while Logan went looking for work, and later when he had a solid job.

He wishes he could spend every hour of every day with his son; as things stand, it's usually something like four hours a day.

He's been working on the railway electrifications lately, only sees Akihiro in the mornings and the very late evenings. He worries that he's failing at this, that his son hardly knows him. Aki is already nine, and they haven't been able to have any of the most important conversations. The boy seems quiet, closed-off.

"_Ohayou_," he says, when Akihiro comes to breakfast.

"_Ohayou gozaimasu_," the boy mumbles, poking at his food.

_Hinata-san_ next door gave them a honeydew from her garden; she claims it's Akihiro's favorite, and she'd probably know the kid's favorite foods better than Logan would. Pretty little green cubes wait patiently in a little bowl.

Logan tries to think of what parents say to children at breakfast. "Are you enjoying school?" he asks awkwardly.

Akihiro stops eating and stares at him. Dark, vivid blue eyes, just like his own.

Logan didn't go to public school, and even if he had, he wouldn't have had to worry about **racism**. He mentally kicks himself. "What are you studying?" he hurriedly goes on.

"Tokugawa shogunate," the boy mutters disinterestedly. "Electrical conductivity. Logarithms. We started English this year. I hate it. The conjugations are sloppy."

"So they are," Logan chuckles. Of all the languages he's learned, he's glad he got English first, because he thinks it would be a nightmare trying to figure it out as a second language. "I'd like it if you could rely on me for help if you have trouble with your English."

"Oh," Akihiro says. He smells surprised. "Then…I'll be relying on you, _chichi-ue_."

The honorific pushes them apart, puts a wall between them that says 'you and I are strangers.'

Logan wishes his son would call him _tousan_, like a normal little boy. He doesn't mention it. "_Ganbatte_," he says instead.

"_Itsumo ganbatteimasu_," Aki replies flatly.

Awkward again, Logan clears his throat and gestures to the bowl of melon. "_Hinata-san_ gave us a melon. Your favorite."

Akihiro obediently eats one of the little cubes of fruit. "I'll be sure to thank her later."

Despairing of the conversation, Logan gathers his dishes and leaves them in the sink. "I'll be getting to work now," he says. "_Itteku_."

"_Itterasshaimase_," his son numbly replies.

Logan hesitates on his way to the _genkan_. At the last moment, he walks back to the table and hugs Aki. The boy is stiff and tense in his arms, but doesn't fight. "I love you. I thought you should know that."

Strong little hands grip his arms. "Oh. Me, too. I love you, _chichi-ue_." And he doesn't **sound** like he means it, but he **smells** like he does.

Logan will be late if he doesn't leave soon, so he leans away, sniffs back sentimental tears, smiles, and pats his son's head.

**.End.**


End file.
